BULGER, IN CHAINS, BEGGING FOR HIS LIFE. ONE OF THE LITTLE BARON’S DREADFUL DREAMS.
BULGER, IN CHAINS, BEGGING FOR HIS LIFE. ONE OF THE LITTLE BARON’S DREADFUL DREAMS.
BULGER, IN CHAINS, BEGGING FOR HIS LIFE. ONE OF THE LITTLE BARON’S DREADFUL DREAMS.
As the hours dragged wearily along I thought of reversing my order sending my men away, and of attempting a rescue. I thought of schemes to bribe the gailor. I thought of demands for the interference of my government. I thought of an appeal for mercy direct to the Emperor himself. When day dawned I was utterly exhausted and sank back upon my pillow with a groan. Anticipating my inability to get any rest for my throbbing brow and fever-heated limbs, So Too was early at my chamber door with his attendants. Under his directions they bathed me in cooling lotions, patted, rubbed, and chafed my limbs; fanned me, stroked my wrists and temples, gave me draughts of quieting powders and gently pressed my eye-lids down, until gradually I sank into a deep sleep, which lasted quite until high noon.
I awoke with a strong heart. Now I was myself again. My sorrow had not grown less; but, for the time being, I was master of it.
So Too met me with a broad smile. I kowtowed profoundly. He expressed the hope that, his “tall, graceful, broad-shouldered, handsome visaged guest of knightly bearing” had slept well. “As for me,” he added, “my miserable, little, crooked frame was full of pangs and tortures all night long.”
To look at him it was hard to see any effects of all these “pangs and tortures.”
He seemed the very picture of good health and spirits. His broad face was as smooth as a baby’s and his little eyes sparkled with suppressed humor and mischief. We grew quite merry over our morning meal.
I was playing a part. I determined to let him think that by degrees I was becoming cured of my extravagant affection for Bulger.
With every cup of tea he drank his cold exterior kept melting off. I felt that if I left him quite to himself, he would give me a clearer view of his inside nature than if I attempted to draw him out by leading questions. I called into use all my wit and imagination. I buried him beneath compliments and finespeeches. I told him some of my most diverting stories. At last, I was successful. The servants were directed to withdraw. So Too now assured me in the name of all his ancestors, that I was the most delightful guest that had ever sipped tea beneath his roof. He entreated me to honor him by rising and placing my tall, graceful, knightly form along side of his miserable, puny little rack of bones.
I made haste to accept the invitation, protesting, however, that I was quite overcome by the honors showered upon me.
He maintained, with equal pertinacity that he was utterly unfit to occupy a seat by my side.
So we continued our war of compliments. Suddenly So Too thrust his right hand under his richly embroidered tunic and drew forth a small case of tablets, which folded upon each other in a curious way. He gave it a slight jerk and it flew open and unfolded itself. “I have been thinking,” he began, “of the approaching trial of thy dog on the charge of witchcraft.”
A lump arose in my throat at these words, but I gulped it down and simply bowed my head as a sign of my attention.
“Thou art a stranger in our land,” continued So Too, “perchance thou wilt be pleased to know the things which I am about to tell thee. Nowhere else in the great world can Perfect Justice be found save in the dominions of our gracious Emperor, him of the Sacred Countenance. While thy nation and the rest of the Western world knew no other law than force or fraud, we had already received from our ancestors thousands of volumes filled with the rules of Perfect Justice. Happy indeed should be that criminal whose good fortune leads him to commit his crime in our favored land. His punishment will be exactly what he deserves. Thou, as the advocate of this fortunate prisoner, who is so dear to thee, art allowed to choose the yamun before whom he shall be tried. I, So Too, thy friend, do here set before thee the list of yamuns so thou mayst choose thine own arbiter.”
Saying this, So Too placed the unfolded tablets in my hand, and then dropped off into a gentle doze.
I scanned the list with mingled awe and curiosity. It read as follows:
Thinking that So Too was sleeping soundly, I half unconsciously murmured to myself, as I glanced at the first name on the list: “Ling Boss, a just judge!” When to my great surprise—which, however, I was careful not to show—So Too, without opening his eyes spoke as follows:
“Aye, a just judge; a very just judge; but a dangerous one; neck too short, too much blood—hence, brain too hot—never willing to hear both sides; a good judge for him who speaks first before the blood begins to press upon his brain, a bad judge for a long cause.”
“Quong Chong?” I repeated inquiringly.
“A just judge,” replied So Too, “an extremely just judge, but too tall and thin; not blood enough for his long body; brain too far away from heart; cold and merciless; does not eat enough, only a little fish; a good judge for a very bad man.”
“Poo Pooh?” I suggested, in a low tone.
“A just judge, a thoroughly just judge,” continued So Too, “but not to be trusted; laughs too easily; too much given to making puns; always ready to deal out death to a solemn-visagedman; only too happy to sentence a man to death if he can make a pun with his name and the axe or block or something belonging to the executioner.”
“Wah Sat?” I asked timorously.
“A just judge, an entirely just judge,” said So Too, apparently half overcome with sleep, “but a judge to be avoided; too much given to asking questions; never weary of turning round and round like an auger, until he strikes bottom; a good judge for a hard and knotty cause—slow, but sure, eating away falsehood bit by bit; not a good judge for a plain case.”
“Lung Tung?” I questioned, half in despair, glancing at number five.
“A just judge, an undoubtedly just judge,” So Too gave answer, in the same sleepy tone, “but a dangerous judge; too fond of hearing himself talk; too liable to use up the criminal’s time and then condemn him to death for not having defended himself within the hour allotted to him!”
Here my heart sank within me; but I drew myself together. There was still one name left. I glanced at it despairingly. “Keen Chop?” I murmured.
“A just judge, a perfectly just judge;” remarked So Too with a slight increase of animation, “a flower, a pearl of a judge; eats well, drinks well, digests well; fond of the good things of life, a great lover of beautiful vases and statues and screens and embroideries—always willing to hear both sides and—”
Here So Too came to a halt and fell into such a sound slumber that he snored loudly. I waited patiently for him to finish his nap. He resumed exactly at the point where he had left off.
“Very anxious to build a larger and finer house and to fill it with rich and rare ornaments.”
Again So Too dropped off. Not to be outdone by him in apparent indifference at the matters under discussion, I likewise gave way to a feeling of drowsiness and was soon fast asleep.
How long we slept I know not; but, when we awoke my mind was perfectly clear on one point. I turned to So Too and said:
“I am resolved! Keen Chop is a just judge! Let him decide Bulger’s fate!”
Three days, long and anxious ones for me, went by before I was accorded a hearing in the Hall of Justice. So Too made great efforts to amuse me and turn my thoughts away from the poor innocent captive. But all in vain. Those dark, lustrous eyes were always fixed upon me. Day and night, they kept repeating the same question: “Dear little master what does it all mean? I know you will not desert me, but why must I be so long separated from you?”
At last the long-wished for hour arrived. I was escorted to the Hall of Justice by a band of So Too’s retainers. A seat was assigned me in front of the platform, which the judge and his suite were to occupy. The vast chamber was crowded with clerks, officers, gong-beaters, accused and accusers; but a deep silence rested upon them all. As I walked to my seat a subdued murmur ran over the multitude, for Bulger’s case was in every one’s mouth; and I could see that my youthful appearance excited great surprise.
Suddenly a beating of gongs announced the arrival of the judge.
Keen Chop entered the Hall of Justice with a majestic tread and solemn air, partly the effect of a pair of huge spectacles which were held astride his nose by heavy silken cords and tassels passed over his ears. He was followed by a vast array of clerks, servants and attendants. There were ink-bearers and pen-bearers; there were fan-bearers and book-bearers; there were foot-rubbers to chafe his feet in case they got asleep from long sitting; there were nose-ticklers armed with long feathers, whose office it was to arouse Keen Chop should he drop off into too long a nap; there were eraser-bearers whose duty it was to blot out from the tablets all the judge had said when he resolved to change his mind. “Let the vile, miserable, wretched accused be brought into the august presence of Keen Chop, the just judge!” cried one of the Court officers, in a loud voice.
After a few moments’ delay, the wicker hamper which contained my faithful Bulger, was carried into the chamber through a side entrance, set down in front of the judge and Bulger lifted gently therefrom and placed on a table at my side. The silvermanacles were still attached to his feet. My heart stood motionless as I heard the rattling of the chains which ran from leg to leg. I had steeled myself to appear calm; but in spite of my efforts, the tears trickled down my cheeks. Bulger gave a start as his dark, lustrous eyes fell upon me and he uttered a long, low whine as if to ask: “What does all this mean, dear, little master?” And then he raised his right paw as high as the chain would permit, and held it out for me to shake—as was his custom when craving forgiveness for some mischievous act which had displeased me.
I pressed the outstretched paw long and tenderly.
“Doth the prisoner confess his guilt and humbly beg for mercy at our hands” inquired Keen Chop turning his huge eye glasses full upon Bulger. Whether it was the disagreeably shrill and creaking tone of the judge’s voice or the glitter of the large glass discs set in front of his eyes, which displeased Bulger, I know not; certain it is he made answer for himself with a single loud and angry bark. Keen Chop was so startled that he dropped his smelling salts and motioned to his fan-bearers to cool his heated face.
“Silence!” roared one of the gong-beaters, giving a deafening thump upon his gong to inspire respect; and, at the same time fiercely agitating his bristling eye-brows and mustachios.
“My lord judge,” said I performing the kowtow, “I crave consent to speak for the prisoner. He is not guilty of witchcraft. Nor doth any manner or kind of evil spirit dwell within his body. He is a true and faithful servant and companion of mine; perchance, with somewhat more than the usual intelligence of his kind. As his defender I call for the proofs of this most unmerited accusation!”
Keen Chop now fell asleep. But, after a few moments, his nose-tickler succeeded in arousing him.
“Let the proofs be read!” spake Keen Chop in slow and measured tones. One of the clerks arose; and unfolding a huge sheet of paper, with wooden rollers fastened at the top and bottom like a window shade, began to read in a drawling, singsong voice as follows:
Proof First: That the prisoner did, without any command, upon reaching the shore from the wreck, proceed to bite the twine attached to his collar in twain; and, taking up the end in his mouth, pass by a group of imperial officers, and a group of merchants, and a group of artisans, and a group of idlers, and make for a group of sailors, at whose feet he laid down the end of the twine.
Proof Second: That the prisoner did, at the sound of the official gong, unlike the animals of his race dwelling among us, manifest great displeasure and ill-humor, rush towards his master, lay one ear against his master’s body and close the other with his paw.
Proof Third: That the prisoner did, on the same day, in the presence of imperial officers, without any command, pick up a purse of gold dropped by his master and restore it to him.
Proof Fourth: That the prisoner did, on the same day, in the presence of imperial officers, upon crossing the threshold of the Lord High Mandarin So Too, unlike animals of his kind, contemptuously and disdainfully reject the kindly welcome and friendly greetings given him by his Excellency’s dogs.
I confess that, as the clerk of the Court finished reading these proofs, my heart rose slowly into my throat. They were, in good earnest, proofs of far more than the usual intelligence of animals of his race. I was staggered by the amount of proof they had collected. While I felt that I should have difficulty in persuading Keen Chop that all this was only the result of careful training, aided by a special aptitude on Bulger’s part, I was very careful not to betray any nervousness or lack of confidence.
I called for some tea, on a plea of needing refreshment; but really to gain time to collect my thoughts and get myself together, after such a staggering blow.
Meanwhile, Keen Chop dropped off into a calm doze.
I finished my tea and sat waiting patiently for the nose-tickler to arouse him.
When I saw that Keen Chop was wide awake again, I arosewith great dignity; and, placing myself beside Bulger, who was watching my every movement and listening to my words with an almost painfully anxious expression, which meant only too plainly: “What does it all mean, dear little master?” I began as follows:
“My Lord Judge! Most ancient, antique and venerable Patriarch, stricken in full five score of honorable years, thy snow-white locks bespeak thy wisdom!” The fact of the matter is, Keen Chop was quite a young man, and so far as I could see had no hair at all on his face or head save a scanty pig-tail; but I knew how flattering it was to a magistrate to be called “old and venerable” and hence my desire to make a good impression at the very outset. “My mother’s breast knows no other child than me and I no other brother than this faithful creature whom heaven, for its own good reasons, hath set upon four feet; but who, if the strength of love could lift him up, would walk beside me, our two hearts on the same level. O, venerable judge—whose wisdom, like fair fruit red-ripened in the Autumn season, is now so ennobled by the flight of time, thou knowest what love can do! Thou knowest full well how it can so steel the thin beak of the mother bird, that the merciless talons of the hawk have no terror for her! Thou knowest, better than this poor bit of humanity which now pleads before thee, that man’s spear hath not point sharp enough to drive the bear from her cub! Thou knowest how the timorous sparrow, to shield her nestlings, will face the viper’s horrid crest, forked tongue and stony eye! And what shall I say of this faithful creature’s race? When lived there one of his kind that was known to desert a poor and humble master, for a richer one; or to refuse forgiveness for a rash and undeserved blow? Where else can human hearts invest their love and draw such usurer’s rates as here? We were babes together! The same sunbeams that danced a welcome on my awakening into life, found him, too, just arrived. Of quicker growth, he was his brother’s keeper. I gave him all my love, for no other playmate was there to share it. I planted better than I knew, for on the thankful soil of his true heart, that love of minestruck such deep and vigorous root that it gave of its strength and power to his brain! Love hath so sharpened thought, that it hath grown wondrous strong! The spirit, thou callest ‘evil,’ is, as the learned know, a reasoning being; and, although it may go upon four feet and whine, and yelp, and growl, and bark, this is but the mask it wears.
“O aged judge, in the vast storehouse of whose mind experience hath piled wisdom many stories high, thou wilt ere long believe me, for I shall make it most plain to thee—that this faithful, loving animal, is not gifted with the mysterious power of reason! True, most true, nature hath widened his vision; but not removed its boundaries.
“Mark now, O learned patriarch, how easy a thing it is for truth to pierce the armor falsehood wears, for gird she ne’er so tightly, there are always some joints that will not come together!
“If my poor, weak mind be not strong enough to brush away the so-called proofs of this evil spirit, then let me be withered by the flame of thy just indignation! This creature loves me! Not the vigor of ten-thousand human hearts blent in one could yield a warmer love than his for me! And yet behold how short its vision is!
“This curious fire-arm was given me by a Turkish merchant whose life I saved in a brawl. I have so set it that a feather’s weight will discharge it; but, first I smeared some sugar paste upon its trigger. Lo! I turn it toward my breast! If this creature now hath but the faintest glimmer of impending harm to his beloved master, he will refuse to lick away the sugar paste!”
A death-like silence fell upon the assembly. I held the fire-arm out towards Bulger. In an instant he scented the sweet odor of the paste and thrust his tongue out in several unsuccessful efforts to reach it. A sharp explosion rang through the great hall.
I stooped and picked up the ball—which had flattened itself upon a steel plate hidden beneath my robe.
Bulger’s amazement was not so great as Keen Chop’s. Hemade signs for refreshment. Tea was hurriedly served. A hundred fans wafted the sulphurous vapor away from his nostrils.
“Once more, O wiser judge than ever in Western Lands, shed the radiance of human wisdom on things dark and obscure, behold how I tear away the weft of falsehood which some ingenious mind would have this august tribunal adjudge to be pure truth! Here, on this salver, I hold some toasted bits of cocks’ combs—to this creature’s taste, the daintiest morsel which nature and art can unite in producing!” Catching a sniff of his favorite dish, my good Bulger began to bark and whine and strain his manacles to their utmost in wild endeavors to reach it. I held the salver out so as to permit him to reach a few pieces of the toothsome food. He was now beside himself; one moment begging, coaxing, pleading; the next, scolding, threatening, expostulating. No doubt he was very hungry, for it was hardly to be expected that the prison messes would suit his dainty palate.
“Most venerable judge!” I resumed, “as thou well knowest, evil spirits hold in great repugnance and dread all subtle and mysterious brews and poisonous compounds with which man strives to display or destroy them. Look now! I sprinkle this coveted dish, before his very eyes, with a powder so deadly and direful in its effect on life that this weak hand of mine holds power enough to change this mighty hall filled with light and life, into one vast charnel house. And again I bring the food within his reach, covering it with a sheet of glass lest his ardor out-wit my vigilance!”
Bulger now fell upon the plate of glass which covered the food, with renewed impetuosity, giving vent to sharp cries of disappointment as he vainly endeavored to lick up the tid-bits, rattling his chains as he strove to scratch away the glass which kept him from his expected feast.
Commanding him to be silent, I uncovered the dish and set it within reach of several dogs which I had caused to be tied near at hand.
At the first touch of the poisoned food they fell to the ground as if stricken by a thunderbolt.
“Again, most sapient and venerable judge, let me add proof to proof that naught of reason dwells within the mind of this faithful creature!”
“I was wounded once in his sight by a treacherous slave. His dagger point pierced my breast; but I smote him dead ere he could find my heart. Yet the danger of that moment seared the image of that poniard forever on this creature’s memory.
“Bid now a retainer turn a dagger towards my breast!”
It was done!
With frantic cries and wild-starting eyes Bulger strove to leap upon my supposed assailant.
“Cover now the blade with its sheath!”
It was done!
Again my good Bulger made desperate efforts to reach the man, filling the room with cries of rage and fear.
“Cast away both sheath and blade!”
’T was done!
But still my loved Bulger made maddest effort to protect his master.
“Cast away the heft and blade and raise the empty sheath against my breast!”
’Twas done!
Still it was all the same! No matter whether covered or uncovered point; whether harmless heft, or still more harmless sheath, was turned towards my breast, Bulger’s cries of mingled rage and fear, his mad attempts to break away from the shackles which bound foot to foot were first and last, exactly as fierce.
Keen Chop now did several things. He drank some tea. He ordered one of his menials to tickle his ear. He removed his huge spectacles and handed them to an attendant who proceeded to polish them. He then attempted to fall asleep. But, at a sign from me, Bulger began to bark so furiously that he gave a sudden start as if he thought the animal was about to lay hold of his calves. Taking advantage of this, I strode up in front of Keen Chop; and fixing my gaze upon him, spake as follows:
“Most ancient Magistrate, I crave your gracious consent toadd another plea to my defense of this dumb creature. I would be the veriest ingrate, whom any wretched outcast might, with justice, spurn and revile, were I not to defend this devoted being with all my mind’s cunning and heart’s love!”
With these words, I sprang lightly up the steps which led to Keen Chop’s chair, and ere he could say nay, caught up his fan which he had just laid down on the table beside him.
“Now, venerable judge, for a last,—and I trust overwhelming—proof that no evil spirit dwells within that creature’s body.
“Here are two fans: Thine! Mine! Thine, made sacred by the touch of thy age-palsied and time-stricken hand! Mine, a worthless trifle; if it were possible, made still more worthless by the touch of my worthless hand. If, as this Court hath charged, an evil spirit dwells in this animal’s body, it knows full well that power of life or death hangs on thy lips; that thou canst pardon with a smile or slay with a frown; that thou canst condemn to lingering torture or strike his shackles off with a nod!
“Ay, more! that if it should, to thine eyes seem meet and wise, thou canst adjudge both master and dog worthy of death and grant them no greater boon than that their blood shall flow together after life is over, as their love was one when living!
“Behold, I cast these two fans at his feet!”
Loud murmurs broke out all over the vast assembly. Many rose in their seats and craned their necks to watch the result.
Bulger looked up at me with a puzzled air at first; but his mind was soon made up. He picked up my fan tenderly and carefully, and with wide-opened, love-lit eyes, raised himself on his hind feet and laid it in my lap, wagging his tail the while, as much as to say: “Never fear, little master, I know what belongs to thee!”
Then, with an outburst of snarling, barking and growling, threw himself upon Keen Chop’s fan, shook it savagely until the richly painted covering was torn in shreds and lay scattered about; tossed it up in the air, only to leap upon it with all fours as it touched the floor; and then, setting his stout claws in its joints wrenched them asunder as if they were made of paper.
But this was not all!
To complete the list of indignities which he had visited upon Keen Chop’s property, he now turned his back toward that grave magistrate; and by several sudden and vigorous kicks with his hind feet, sent the sticks in a shower flying so close to his head that one actually struck against the huge disc of glass placed in front of Keen Chop’s right eye. But a court officer, who had fallen sound asleep, and let his head fall backward, did not escape so luckily. Two of the largest sticks entered his nostrils and remained sticking there like arrows in a target. The man awoke with an ear-piercing shriek. In spite of the commands of the court officers, that every one who laughed should be bastinadoed, there was suppressed giggling here and there. Keen Chop himself twisted his face into the most comical grimaces in order to keep from bursting out into a fit of laughter. As for Bulger, he was beside himself with pleasure. In fact, he fairly howled with joy. Keen Chop now moved his thumb as a sign that he was about to speak, and a deep silence fell upon the multitude.
I was summoned to approach the steps of the judge’s chair. He spake as follows:
“When thou art taller, thou wilt be stronger! When thou art older, thou wilt be wiser!
“Know then, that, as the abject slave of the Child of the Sun, him of the Sacred Countenance, Lord of all the Orders, I had intended to dismiss this charge against thy dog, cast off his manacles and set him free. But it may not now be done!
“Thy pleading hath convinced me that he doth deserve to die! A just cause needeth no other defence than words. But thou hast pleaded with hands and legs and feet! Thou hast been over-earnest! ’Tis proof, thou knewest the weakness of thy cause. Hadst thou not spoken at all and had thy dog himself but oped his mouth at the very outset, what had fallen therefrom would have freed him from his shackles.
“Now he must die!
“Let him be delivered to the public executioner!” And then, with a motion of his hand, he ordered the gongs to beat, so thatit was impossible for me to make reply. The great chamber was now the scene of the wildest hubbub. The guards crowded around me as if they feared I might, in my desperation, sacrifice my life in attempting to rescue Bulger.
Poor Bulger! He had been quickly lifted into his wicker cage and borne out of the court-room.
Although I could feel my heart hammering on my ribs I gave no sign of the storm of emotion that was sweeping over my inward being. I could hear those terrible words “public executioner” ringing in my ears; but my infallible second sight caught no glimpse of that dreadful officer, and hence I felt that there was still hope. But, I moved neither hand nor foot.
The gongs ceased beating.
The throng departed from the hall of justice.
The guards, kowtowing, backed out of my presence. I stood there alone in that vast, silent chamber.
I was aroused at last from my deep reverie by the approach of a messenger from Keen Chop. He thus addressed me:
“The wretched, little, misshapen Keen Chop humbly begs the tall and stately stranger to drink tea with him in his private apartment.”
Mechanically I followed the judge’s servant, who lead me through long and winding corridors. Keen Chop had laid off his huge spectacles and received me most graciously.
All the servants were dismissed. We sipped our tea in silence for a while. At length, rising and stepping behind a screen, he returned, bearing a huge volume.
It was the record of Bulger’s trial. He desired me to examine it while he refreshed himself after his long sitting on the judge’s bench with a short nap.
I turned the leaves of the record over slowly. Not only were my words set down with the most perfect accuracy, but correct drawings of the various scenes filled the broad margins of the record.
On the last page I noticed that a blank space had been left between the words “must” and “die” and “him” and “be delivered.”
“’Tis miraculous!” exclaimed Keen Chop, starting up and rubbing his eyes. “What a wonderful creature is thy dog! As I slept I dreamt that he oped his mouth and what fell therefrom convinced me of his innocence.”
“Let him be brought into your august presence, O just judge!” I replied.
In a few moments Bulger’s wicker house was deposited on the floor and he was lifted gently out of it. I could only with the greatest exertion keep back the tears as his large, speaking eyes were turned full upon me as if to ask: “When will all this mystery come to an end, little master?” I stroked his head with a loving hand to assure him that all was right.
No sooner were the attendants out of the apartment than, taking the purse of gold which Bulger had picked up on the beach and restored to me, I placed it in his mouth and made a sign for him to carry it to Keen Chop, who had now resumed his huge spectacles, and sat poring over the pages of the record of Bulger’s trial.
Bulger did not wait for a second bidding.
Making straight for Keen Chop, he raised himself on his hind feet and dropped the purse in that dignitary’s lap.
“’Tis wonderful! ’Tis very wonderful!” cried Keen Chop, testing the weight of the purse, with a pleased expression of countenance, first in one hand and then in the other. “Thy speech was silvern, but his silence is golden! ’Twere a crime to part two such faithful hearts. Go in peace!”
“But the record of the trial?” I asked. Keen Chop spoke not, but turning to the last page, he laid his finger on the place where the blank spaces had been left.
They were now both filled.
The word “not” had been written in each of them.
The guards were now summoned, and in a few moments the shackles were loosened from Bulger’s feet. Upon finding himself free once more, he leapt into my lap with a wild cry of joy, and covered my hands and face with caresses.
I could not keep the tears back. Clasping the faithful animal convulsively in my arms, I wept like a child.
But a cloud came over our joy; for Keen Chop, upon my request for a safe conduct to the nearest seaport, informed me that he was powerless to grant my request; that I must apply to Slim Lim, the Taou-tai, or Imperial Governor of the province, Lord of the Peacock Feather, Knight of the Plain Red Button, etc., etc.
“’Tis well!” I exclaimed. “Deign to send one of thy servants to conduct me into the presence of his honor the Taou-tai! I pine to set foot once more on my native strand. I long to put an end to the sorrowful anxiety of my parents.”
Keen Chop shook his head and smiled sadly.
“Know, O honored guest,” said he, “that no one may approach the Taou-tai, Lord of the Peacock Feather, unless in answer to most humble petition of twenty pages length, his high and mighty Lordship deign to accord an audience! To attempt to do otherwise might mean death at the hands of the guards; but would most surely mean imprisonment in the deepest dungeon of the imperial fortress.”
“So be it!” I replied. “Come death, come imprisonment, I stand this day in the presence of Slim Lim the Taou-tai, Knight of the Plain Red Button, and Lord of the Peacock Feather!”
Keen Chop groaned loud and deep. But seeing that I was resolved to set out at once for the governor’s palace, he sent one of his attendants to conduct me to the gate, instructing him, in case the guards raised their swords to slay me, to cry out in a loud voice that I was a harmless lunatic and had escaped from my keepers.
To end all opposition I consented to this.
Whereupon Keen Chop bade me an affectionate adieu, and, followed by my faithful Bulger, I turned my steps toward the palace of the Taou-tai.
To tell the truth, chaos reigned within my mind.
In as many seconds, twenty different plans of action occupied my thoughts. How shall Bulger and I overcome the opposition of armed guards? It will be madness to provoke them to use their weapons upon us!
If I am fated to stand in the presence of the Lord Taou-tai, it must be accomplished by ruse and stratagem.
Luckily for me, the shades of night now began to fall, for, although the gateway and corridors of the governor’s palace might be illumined by ten thousand lanterns—as in truth I found them to be, when I reached them—yet the light they shed was soft and uncertain.
Counting upon the almost lightning celerity of my movements and the utterly noiselessness of my footsteps, I succeeded quite easily in flitting by the group of sentries who were stationed at the outer gate.
Delighted with my good fortune, I sprang lightly up the steps of the portico, and, closely followed by Bulger, strode into the main corridor with dignified mien and stately air.
Eight towering fellows, armed with savage-looking pikes—for one of whom it would have been no more trouble to spit me and toss me out of the window, than for a boy to impale a frog on the end of his pointed stick and toss it on dry land—now blocked my advance.
So noiseless had been my step that I had approached within a few feet of them before they became aware of my presence. Had I dropped from the clouds, their astonishment could not have been greater and more ludicrous to behold.
They clutched each other by the arm, leveled their index fingers at me, and whispered in a hoarse voice, as one man:
“A little devil!”
“Nay, my good men,” I replied, with a most gracious smile, “not a little devil, but a soldier like yourselves; one who has fought ’neath many skies, knows what a good sword is, what good wine is, would rather fight than run, can tell a good story, and loves war as a hunter loves the chase!”
The eight men looked at each other, tapped their foreheads significantly, and then fixed their gaze upon me as if they were in doubt whether my next move would be to jump down their throats, vanish into thin air, or expand into an awful ogre, and gulp them all down without pepper or salt.
“Come, comrades,” I called out in a careless tone, “lay aside your pikes, and I’ll show you something that I picked up on a battle-field in the war against the Algerines, something so curious,that if you had not slept a wink for three months and a day you would still be willing to keep awake and examine it.”
Saying this, I drew my musical snuff box out of my pocket, and tapping its lid mysteriously, tiptoed my way towards the outside entrance of the corridor, and beckoned them to follow me.
They did so, with the most comical expression of half-wonder and half curiosity depicted on their faces. But first they quietly set their grim-looking pikes in the rack against the wall.
Motioning them to lay their heads together and bend down so that they could see and hear—for I reached about up to their girdles. I touched the spring of the snuff box and it began to play.
It is impossible for me to give you any idea of the delight which shone upon their great, round smooth faces.
Their mouths fell open.
Their fingers twitched nervously, as if they longed to touch the little wonder, and yet dared not. I felt now that the moment had arrived for me to act.
Winding up the snuff box to its utmost limit, I thrust it into the hands of one of the guards, who seemed beside himself with joy, and showed him how to touch the secret spring.
As the music began again, they closed up their group so tightly that even if I had wished to remain one of the circle it would have been an impossibility. To my infinite satisfaction they now seemed to dismiss me most unceremoniously from their society.
More quickly than it takes to tell it, I drew a ball of strong twine from my pocket, and fastening the ends of their cues securely together, I retreated to the outside entrance of the palace and placed the other end of the string between Bulger’s teeth, with a motion that meant:
“Stand fast and pull hard!”
In another instant I had passed the group of guards and was making for the door of the audience chamber.
Suddenly the enormity of their negligence dawns upon them.
They look up.
They see me already at the end of the corridor!
They drop the enchanted box which has decoyed them from the path of duty!
They start towards their pikes!
Some mysterious force holds them chained to the floor!
Bulger is doing splendid work!
My hand is on the door of the audience chamber!
Smitten with a superstitious dread of some unseen power, the guards stand rooted to the spot.
A low whistle tells Bulger that his task is complete.
He flashes through the corridor like a spirit.
We enter the vestibule of the audience chamber, we pass through an outer apartment, we stand in the presence of Slim Lim, Lord of the Peacock Feather!
Slim Lim was at home.
He was seated in the centre of the spacious apartment, sipping a cup of very fragrant tea, the aroma of which was so fascinating that I paused and inhaled it with all the gusto of a fine taster.
Two ladies, clad in robes of great beauty and richness, were busy brewing tea and spreading before the Lord Taou-tai an infinite number of delicate viands and toothsome tid-bits.
But he ate nothing.
He was evidently somewhat disturbed by my sudden appearance, and I could see that one thought, to the exclusion of all others, was occupying his mind. It was: “How did this stranger pass the guards? True he is small; but if he can calmly walk into my apartment why may not an evil-disposed person do likewise?”
Determined to convince Slim Lim and the ladies of his household of my noble lineage and refined manners, I kowtowed with all the grace of a veteran courtier, and began the enumeration of their various virtues, excellencies, and charms of body and mind. When I had reached number one hundred and seventeen, the victory was complete.
They smiled.
But Slim Lim remained obdurate. He gazed into vacancy for several moments and then pretended to fall asleep.
I recited the purpose of my visit and waited patiently for the Lord of the Peacock Feather to deign to reply.
He did so at last; but without opening his eyes, speaking as if half in a dream:
“Barbarian, son of a barbarian, grandson of a barbarian, great-grandson of a barbarian, great-great-grandson of a barbarian, great-great-great-grandson of a barbarian——”
Well knowing that this was a mere ruse to waste the night in words, I resolved to put an end to it at once.
I sat down and interrupted Slim Lim’s long and dreary list by pretending to snore with that regularity which proves the accomplished sleeper.
He came to a sudden halt.
A deep silence now settled upon the scene, only broken by the nervous rattle of the ladies’ fans.
Slim Lim now began to realize that he had no ordinary mortal before him.
For the first time he looked me squarely in the face.
The ladies grew alarmed at the dark cloud gathering on the brow of their liege lord, and withdrew to the other end of the room.
The Taou-tai was now wide awake.
So was I!
“Bold, thoughtless, and ill-counselled stranger,” he cried out, “by the decree of the Child of the Sun, him of the Sacred Countenance, it is not lawful to punish a rash petitioner like thee, provided his prayer be one that may be granted. But what thou askest is impossible, for at this hour there is neither paper, ink nor brush within the palace! Thou must suffer for thy rash conduct. Thou hast been cunning enough to pass the guards in coming hither: but already a score of pikes are leveled at thy breast. Escape is impossible. Prepare for death or imprisonment in dungeon cell which knows neither light nor warmth!”
To speak the truth, my legs bent beneath the weight of my body as these cruel words made clear to me the danger I was in.
I could see that tears had gathered in the eyes of the two gracious ladies, standing near me.
“Paper—ink—brush!” I murmured, half dazed, “brush—paper—ink—or death!”
“It must not be!” I glanced about me. I closed my eyes. I fixed my gaze on Bulger, but all in vain—no help came to me.
A cold perspiration stood on my brow.
Suddenly, a huge parrot which was perched on a bamboo cage at one end of the room, uttered a harsh cry.
Quicker than it takes to tell it, I called Bulger to my side and set him teasing the bird.
He was not averse to enter upon the sport.
When it was well under way, I approached the bird from the rear, and as he bent forward to repel Bulger’s familiarity, I deftly laid hold of one of his longest tail-feathers and pulled it out. An ear-splitting yell went up, and the two ladies threw themselves towards their pet with a thousand tearful expressions of pity and endearment.
I now turned my attentions to Slim Lim.
Drawing a pair of tiny shears from my pocket, I caught at the end of his cue and snipped off an inch of it.
My audacity struck him dumb. He could only stare at me with wide opened mouth.
I set to work now in good earnest.
Drawing some silk threads from my sleeve, I fitted the hair into the quill with such nimble, cunning fingers that Slim Lim looked on quite awe-struck.
“The brush is ready, Lord of the Peacock Feather!” I cried, laying it down in front of him. “And the paper too!” I continued, drawing out a paper mat from under a curio and turning up the white underside.
He followed my movements as a child would those of a necromancer.
Ink now was only lacking!
With one of my most winning smiles I drew near the ladies, and thus addressed them:
“Fasten forever the images of your beautiful faces upon the pages of my memory by lending me the jar of ebon pigment with which you add lustre to those matchless arches that shade your eyes!”
They returned my smile with entrancing grace and sweetness. But what was more pleasing still, they granted my request.
Halting for a moment at the cage of my friend, the parrot, who ruffled his feathers and eyed me most suspiciously, to moisten the pigment from his drinking vessel, I then strode with an air of triumph back to the table where Slim Lim sat nervously fanning himself, and said:
“Most noble Lord of the Peacock Feather, thy dull-witted, misshapen and worthless slave hath prepared brush, ink and paper; deign to set thy most honorable sign-manual to this paper so that he may withdraw his poor, miserable body and limbs from beneath thy sacred roof!”
So saying, I held out the brush to Slim Lim.
With trembling hand he took hold of it and rapidly traced the mysterious characters which were destined to open every gate and unbar every door until I stood once more on shipboard bound for my native land.
Folding up the precious document, I thrust it into my sailor’s pouch. But while I was flushed with victory, Slim Lim showed only too plainly that he was nearly beside himself with chagrin and vexation.
The ladies of his household approached him with most profound obeisances and with loud and deep-drawn sighs at every step. But Slim Lim repulsed them in the rudest manner. He would have none of their sympathy, none of their pity or tender offices.
They redoubled their efforts; their sighs became more tender and louder.
It was all in vain.
Slim Lim was determined not to be propitiated.
Turning to me, he cried out:
“Let the barbarian, the son of a barbarian, the grandson of a barbarian, the great-grandson of a barbarian, the great-great-grandson of a barbarian, the great-great-great-grandson of a barbarian, the great-great-great-great-grandson of a barbarian inscribe his wretched, worthless, mean, common, ordinary, insignificant and despicable name upon a sheet of paper ere hegoes forth, so that I and my children, and my children’s children, and my children’s children’s children, and my children’s children’s children’s children may speak it with contempt!”
And then, in order to prove to me that he considered himself disgraced to sit in my presence, he threw himself full length upon the floor.
Bulger got it into his head that this strange proceeding was in some way a menace to me, for he walked cautiously around Slim Lim, sniffing at him and growling in a threatening way, as if to say: “Don’t play any tricks on my little master, or it will go hard with you!”
The ladies of Slim Lim’s household were nearly crazed with grief and anxiety.
I assured them of my protection, but this only seemed to increase their solicitation.
To tell the truth, however, I was not half so calm as I appeared to be.
Cruel fate seemed to have woven her meshes about me once again.
Slim Lim, with deep cunning, had set another task for me which seemed so impossible of performance that he doubtless was already congratulating himself and applauding his own skilfully devised plan for holding me prisoner.
He had demanded that I should “write my name” before going forth; he had been most careful to use the word “write” so that I should not be permitted to use a brush after the manner of his people; but must have recourse to a pen after the manner of my own.
Feeling pretty confident in his mind that I would not have a pen in my possession, he had ground for flattering himself that I was still in his power.
Bulger caught a glimpse of the shadow that had settled upon my face, and whined nervously.
A thought struck me!
A quill will save me!
I looked towards the parrot.
Ah! deep-laid plan to rob me of my liberty!